A young couple at a loss for words rolled watermelon-sized balls of snow on the neutral ground grass near the corner of Banks Street. Reyan Clark, 21, said she and her boyfriend, Kenan Springs, 31, didn't need to discuss their plans this morning. Making a snowman seemed like the right thing to do.

"I'm making a memory," Clark said.

She's a native of the city, a stranger to snow. He is transplant who has shoveled and scraped his way through three decades of Chicago winters.

"This is a blessing for the city," he said.

In a matter of 20 minutes, their three-tiered snowman reached the Saints logo on Clark's sweatshirt. The couple found some sticks on the ground. Presto: arms. She shored up the foundation while he searched for more accessories. A handful of relatives showed up to snap photos and take part in the fun.

Cameras were everywhere on the expanse of grass that separates the lanes of Jefferson Davis Parkway.

Pedro Marino, 33, a day laborer from Nicaragua, kicked balls of snow towards three of his pals. The boss said this morning that no work would get done today, so Marino and colleagues had time to play.

He bent down to make sure this was real, shouting in Spanish to his friends. He explained that this was el agua nieve, something he's never seen. He asked a passerby what local call it. Snow, he was told.

Blocks away, a confused-looking law school student stood in a pair of purple LSU shorts and sandals and snapped photos of the New England-style scene. The playground was covered in snow, the volleyball net a frozen rope and kids scuttled past.

"I can't remember the last time I've seen something like this," said Patrick Frischhertz, 25, a Baton Rouge native who attends Loyola University.

He woke up this morning and took a pass at going outside in what looked like sleet. But when the white flakes started to fall with consistency, he had to take cell-phone photos for his girlfriend. She's a Louisiana girl in Washington, D.C., and hasn't seen any snow yet this year.

"She's jealous," he said.

Frischhertz noted he was wearing shorts just days earlier, sweating outside on a spring-like day. Now, his sandals sunk inches deep into snow.

"This is a unique place for sure," he noted.

He needed to write a lengthy research paper, but figured he'd spend some time outside. Frischhertz, like many locals interviewed today, knew to take advantage of it, because tomorrow, in all probability, it will be gone.